


don't gotta worry about me (i got all my love in my arms)

by doozy (jungtaeh)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Character Study, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, OTP meme, is it sweet or is it tooth rotting??: the fic, junhao if u squint and use a magnifying glass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungtaeh/pseuds/doozy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They live together and love together, but that doesn't mean everything is perfect.</p><p>(It's more than perfect.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't gotta worry about me (i got all my love in my arms)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unpleasantly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unpleasantly/gifts).



> without steffi i wouldn't have so many fricking meanie feelings, she is my key to the meanie world
> 
> taken from [this stupid meme](http://kingkwentins.tumblr.com/post/109616699894/otp-ask-meme-that-needs-to-exist)

_**Which one sexts like a straight white boy?** _

 

There are times, Wonwoo knows, when words get caught in throats and the air seems too precious to move in.

Those are some of Wonwoo's favorite moments; he and Mingyu, caught in each other's orbit, hands clinging softly to waists and eyes conveying a meaning that only the two of him know. And, _god_ \-- the _cheese_. Wonwoo, of course, doesn't actually know what Mingyu thinks in their quiet hours. In the warm light of early morning, he suspects it might be _I'm glad to wake up next to you_ , and at night, perhaps a caressing _I want to hold you every night for the rest of my life_.

Mingyu's eyes had that kind of effect. They were soft and brown and golden speckled.

So Wonwoo may take liberties with their quiet exchanges, but they sure beat the messages that splay across the (very large and conspicuous) screen of his iPhone.

He should learn to turn off the preview features for text messages. Especially while in class. _Especially_ when his best friend was a nosy little shit.

Wonwoo's phone vibrates, Junhui lets out a laugh poorly concealed by a cough, and the professor sighs under her breath because Junhui laughing at anything and everything that happened to Wonwoo was a sadly commonoccurrence.

His hand shoots out to grab his phone before Junhui can take a photo of it with his own phone to show to Minghao, who then shows it to Chan, who then shows it to everyone else in their friend group. A vicious cycle, really.

"Your boyfriend sure knows how to romance," Junhui chortles as Wonwoo taps in his passcode. Without looking, Wonwoo knows there's a giant, amused smirk on his face.

"Shut up."

There was a time before Mingyu's texting, and a time before Wonwoo knew what it meant to date Mingyu, and a time when he could pretend their quiet moments were sacred. Now, though, he stares at the messages on his screen, (Junhui lingering over his shoulder, grinning _loudly_ \-- which was physically impossible, but fuck it is wasn't loud), and sighs because if he knows Mingyu as well as he hopes, his texts conveyed a lot of the meaning for when they cuddled.

 

**Mingyu  
**

Thursday, 11:43 AM

_So i had chinese takeout for lunch today_

 

**Mingyu  
**

Thursday, 11:43 AM

_You'll never guess what my fortune cookie said, babe ;)_

 

The winky-face. The fucking winky-face.

Junhui cackled silently into Wonwoo's shoulder.

 

**Mingyu  
**

Thursday, 11:44 AM

_It says we'll fuck all night long. And who are we but mere mortals to deny fate?? Lol  
_

 

Wonwoo shuts off his phone.

Later, when he turns it back on, there's an onslaught of messages, each relaying the sentiment of: _so babe why aren't u texting back? isn't it a good fortune cookie? haha. why aren't you texting back? be like that then :(_ and, inexplicably, he will feel bad for ignoring his boyfriend.

 

 

❣ ❣ ❣

**_ Which one cried during a fucking Disney movie? _ **

 

 _Be a man_ , Wonwoo tells himself firmly, before realizing that being a man wasn't really synonymous with being emotionally constipated and that sad Disney movies _did_ shit to a person, regardless of gender, sexual orientation, or race.

Beside him, Mingyu snuffles pathetically. Burrows further into Wonwoo's side and exhales, "He was supposed to show him how to be king... how to rule justly and right and _ugh_. But... now he's _dead_."

On the screen, Simba knocks his head gently against his father's, and that's when a tear slips down the slope of his cheek.

He's seen _The Lion King_ a grand total of seven times in the last year. Maybe more, but Wonwoo chooses not to count the times Mingyu would put on the film and proceed to distract him with... other activities. Every single time, Wonwoo feels his heart break a little more. Every single time, he hopes that Mingyu is crying hard enough to not notice that Wonwoo is also crying.

It's almost impossible to hide the fact that he's crying; a feat that he finds harder and harder to conceal whenever they watch a touching movie. By a stroke of luck and good-boyfriend-choosing-skills, Wonwoo dates a man who cuddles below his line of sight.

This time is different, however.

Wonwoo is just getting over a cold and now that his nasal glands have been triggered by emotion and tears and sad fucking Disney movies, he feels his nose beginning to run.

And-- like, this wouldn't be a problem. If he had only admitted a year ago that he was and will always be a Disney-crier. But he didn't. Instead, Wonwoo chose to lord his stoic reaction over Mingyu's typical waterfall reaction, and he just. He can't let Mingyu know he cries during disney movies. Mingyu would laugh. Mingyu would probably take a snapchat video of Wonwoo crying if he knew. Mingyu would _tease_. Mingyu was a _terrible_ tease.

God _damn_ it. He surreptitiously lifts his sweater paw to his nose but stops when Mingyu shifts and yawns.

He feels his boyfriend look up.

Wonwoo stares ahead, determined.

"Isn't this nice?" Mingyu asks, deciding that now, apparently, was the best time for one of his musings. There's a shaky quality to his voice and Wonwoo _would_ look, just to see his cute smile that he _knows_ is there, but he _can't_ , _fuck_. "Cuddling with you is, like, the coolest thing ever. Honest."

He kind of wants to tell Mingyu that describing quality time together as "cool" isn't very cool. Kind of wants to look down at him and agree, maybe kiss his forehead if Mingyu's pout is cute enough and if he's feeling particularly charitable. The thing is, though, Wonwoo's voice will shake if he says something.

So he just nods.

He should have known Mingyu would take that as a bad thing.

Suddenly, the staring turns ten times colder and ten times as tangible.

"Did you hear me?" Mingyu asks. Shifts up onto Wonwoo's shoulder, chin digging uncomfortably into his skin.

Wonwoo turns his head.

Mingyu makes a quizzical noise, bumping Wonwoo's jaw with his nose. "Babe. Wonwoo-- wait, are you okay?"

 _Shit_.

He shrugs Mingyu off and stands quickly, gestures to the half-full bowl of popcorn, and speed walks toward the kitchen, throwing a loud, _"We ran out of popcorn!"_ over his shoulder.

 

 

❣ ❣ ❣

**_ Who put a goddamned fork in the _ _ microwave? _ **

 

Mingyu will be the first to admit he isn't the best cook.

He'll also be the first to defend that, _hey, I can cook ramen just fine, Minghao, why don't you just recount the story about you and your stupid charred fish-- fuck you too, man_. He's not entirely useless. That was his charm. Or, at least, it _was_ his charm.

Until now.

Wonwoo is standing in the threshold of their cramped little kitchen, eyes wide, having just run from his bedroom because Mingyu had let out a yell and a resounding _thud_ had followed. And, yeah, Mingyu is on the floor, staring at the ajar microwave like he'd just witnessed the second-coming of Christ.

"T-the microwave," Mingyu stutters, looking up at Wonwoo.

The look on his face is worrying. Wonwoo swallows his _what the hell did you do_ and asks, "What the hell happened?"

"It _exploded_ ," Mingyu says, and looks back at the microwave, which was (shockingly) entirely intact.

"What?"

"There was lightning, Wonwoo," He continues, and reaches out for Wonwoo to help him up. With a roll of his eyes, Wonwoo lets Mingyu drag himself up by his hand. "Look- it's dead. It blew the fuck up, I'm _telling_ you."

He closes the microwave door. Presses _start_.

Seconds pass.

Nothing happens.

Silence stretches.

"Are you sure it's just not plugged in?" Wonwoo questions, skeptical. He raises his brows. "You always forget to plug in the toaster."

"Oh my God, that was _one_ time. Stop talking about it already," Mingyu says, voice strict but with a lilting whine. He racks a hand through his hair and shakes his head, seemingly stressed. "I don't know what happened." He pouts.

Wonwoo rubs Mingyu's back soothingly, trying to relax him. His shoulders are drawn and there are knots all down the length of his spine; clearly, he's bothered by the so-called "explosion" of the microwave.

"It's probably nothing," He tries, going for comforting and landing on half-amused, half-concerned. He pops the microwave open, eyes still glued to Mingyu's troubled frown. "I'll check it out. I'm not an engineer for nothing, you know."

Mingyu sighs, scrubbing his face. "Yeah. It's just weird. I think it's dead."

He goes on into a lament as Wonwoo turns to check out the microwave, moaning _I killed it, babe, seriously it was wild like you had to be there-_ when Wonwoo extracts what is a long fork out of a pile of take-out spaghetti, desperately trying to hold back his laugh.

But he can't help it; he chuckles when Mingyu's voice draws to a stop and he stares, stumped, at the fork.

"That's not supposed to go in there," Mingyu says, and grabs it out of Wonwoo's hand. "I took it out of there. Why was it in there?"

Settling his arm over Mingyu's shoulders, Wonwoo shrugs. "'Cause you left it in there, dumby."

"I'm not a dumby. You're so rude," Mingyu tells him. He stares forlornly at spaghetti, shaking his head. "This is horrible. That spaghetti was my only dinner choice."

In an attempt to lighten the mood (or to jab at Mingyu), Wonwoo suggests cooking.

"You only know how to cook ramen."

"At least I don't burn it."

"I _don't_ burn the ramen!"

And only because Mingyu looks truly mournful, all thoughts about the many, many times Mingyu under-cooked or over-cooked ramen remain buried deep in the crevices of Wonwoo's mind. Instead, he orders jjajangmyun and bubble tea, ignoring the cries of his wallet. Mingyu's stomach was kind of way more important than his broke-college-stupid funds.

 

❣ ❣ ❣

**_ Who does the silly hands-over-the-eyes "Guess who" thing? _ **

 

"Guess who?"

"No."

"C'mon, just guess."

" _No_."

" _Wonwooooo,_ just guess who!"

The cute, aegyo factor is completely lost in the way Mingyu purses his lips then drunkenly laughs, nudging Wonwoo with his elbow as if prompting him. There's a silly smile on his face, and it would probably have been extremely handsome, had he not been holding his hands over his eyes and stifling giggles every few seconds.

Wonwoo looks around. Minghao and Junhui, sitting across the room, stare judgmentally.

"Wonwoo, babe," Mingyu says again, octaves higher than he'd been previously speaking. A ploy. A _lie_. He's not usually this cute. "Guess who?"

_Dear God_ , thinks Wonwoo. "Why?"  


"Because you love me."

"You're exposing me."

"You're making me look weird," Mingyu frowns, lowing his hands to peek sad eyes at Wonwoo. He's so drunk, and so cute, and this is so not okay. "Just do it. I have ten dollars on the line."

"Ten dollars for aegyo?" Wonwoo says, brain-to-mouth filter completely off the hook. "Your entire existence is aegyo, Mingyu."

At this, Mingyu raises his hands back to his eyes. Clears his throat. Caught off guard by the compliment, he flusters, and mutters more than requests, "Guess who?"

"The love of my life."

"Be _serious_ ," Mingyu instructs, blush rising high on his cheeks. "Guess who?"

"My angel."

"Wrong."  


Wonwoo makes a stank-face and pulls Mingyu's hands away from his face, reveling in the squawk he is rewarded. "You're annoying," He jokes, pulling Mingyu close and slotting his own hand over Mingyu's eyes. "Kim Mingyu."

 

 

 

❣ ❣ ❣

**_ Who puts their cold hands/feet on their _ _ partner? _ **

 

Wonwoo has perpetually cold hands and feet.

It's a thing. It's been a thing since before they started dating. Mingyu remembers meeting Wonwoo, thinking he was cute, shaking his hand, and asking him why his hands were cold. (Tact? What's that? Is it an ice cream flavor?)

The cold feet/cold hands thing isn't a problem most of the time, because when Wonwoo's body heat goes up, it only makes sense that the heat of his hands and feet do, too. In bed (wink) and cuddling, it wasn't a problem. Going out for runs and walking together in the summer sun, holding hands and such--not a problem. Sometimes it was the opposite of a problem, because Mingyu liked to workout and he might or might not have exploited his boyfriend's cold hands in order to cool off. _Might_ have. Really. Only a might've.

There, of course, are times when it is a problem.

Specifically when the temperatures dipped below zero.

Specifically when they went to sleep.

In Mingyu's defense, anyone would be cranky when their significant other wouldn't let them sleep. It's just--there's something so cringe-worthy about being shocked out of a doze only to feel sub-arctic feet pressing into his back.

This time, it's his hands, dipping over Mingyu's waist and pressing softly into the muscles of his abdomen.

He opens his eyes. Counts to ten.

Wonwoo continues to breathe deeply, asleep. Unbeknownst to the woes he rains upon Mingyu's pretty head.

_One, two, three..._

"Wonwoo?" Mingyu timidly tries. A full body shiver takes over when Wonwoo's hand crawls downwards a little.

_...four, five, six..._

A hum sounds from behind him. He grins. Not all hope is lost.

But the hand remains.

_...seven, eight, nine..._

An idea sparks to life.

"Wonwoo?" He says again, just a bit louder. Mingyu interlocks his hand with Wonwoo's and turns, coming face to face with a half-lidded gaze. "Are you sleeping?"

_Ten._

"Trying to," Wonwoo yawns, shuffling closer. "It's cold."

"Mmm," Mingyu nods, dipping down until his head rested on Wonwoo's pillow. There's barely a centimeter between them, and that's exactly how Mingyu likes it. "Shall we warm up?"

The response is a fond snort.

 

 

❣ ❣ ❣

**_ Who had that embarrassing Reality TV marathon? _ **

 

 

"It's not just reality TV, Mingyu," Junhui told him once, many, many months ago, before university kicked Mingyu in the ass and dropped him into a three day weekend with three essays to procrastinate (and eventually stress, or constantly stress, who knows) over. "It's _art_. You don't hear the shit you hear in reality shows in real life."

Before, Mingyu had laughed. Mingyu had shook his head and pushed Junhui away from him, thinking he was completely out of it from the few shots he'd taken. Reality TV was shit and would always be shit. That had been Mingyu's only philosophy.

Now, though. Now, he can hear Junhui laughing. Loudly.

And there's Wonwoo, too, except not metaphysical and very solidly standing in the door to their apartment, having just returned from a five-day competition down in Busan. Something about cars and prize money. Mingyu doesn't know. All he knows is that "Chloe" was truly meant to be spelt with a "K", and that Khloe Kardashion was Savage with a capital "S".

"Mingyu," Wonwoo says, enunciating each syllable carefully, as if afraid to say his name. He walks further into the living room and drops his luggage, going up behind the couch and staring confusedly at the television. "What are you doing? Is that _Keeping Up With the Kardashians?_ Seriously, Mingyu."

Mingyu turns off the TV. "No."

"How long have you been here?" Wonwoo asks, and pokes at Mingyu's hair. "Jesus."

He stands up and throws his blanket to the ground, unwilling to let Wonwoo know the length of time he sat on the couch and lost himself in the lives of the elite and idiotic. The bathroom is his only salvation.

"Where are you going?"

A moment of hesitation. He wants to go to Wonwoo and kiss him, ask him about the competition, but. _God_. It's been a good 16 hours is what it's been.

"To shower," Mingyu answers, and closes the door to the bathroom.

(Later: "You spent _how much_ on these DVDs?"

"Well, I couldn't stream them.")

 

 

 

❣ ❣ ❣

_** Who laughs more during sex? ** _

 

He racks Mingyu's shirt up under his armpits, exposing every inch of his body to the warm air, hands roaming over taut skin. Wonwoo drags his hands down Mingyu's ribs and over the taut skin of his stomach, kissing the laugh Mingyu spills into his mouth. 

A quick nip to his bottom lip shuts him up. It's quiet after that, all fluttering eyelashes and pleased sighs.

Making out is nice. But between classes and halfway points of papers, between stuffing themselves until ramen was a sufficient meal and working shifts that the both of them really couldn't handle, it's the most they've done and Wonwoo finds himself wanting more, finds himself dipping his fingers below the waistband of Mingyu's stupid basketball shorts and pressing his thumb into his sharp hipbone.  


There's a shaky breath. 

Wonwoo shifts down a little, pressing open-mouthed kisses onto Mingyu's neck, spurred on by every noise uttered from his boyfriend's mouth. 

It's when he's working his way down Mingyu's chest that it happens.

The breathless giggle. 

He stops, and looks up. Presses his thumb a bit harder into Mingyu's hipbone and gets the bashful smile turning into something less innocent, maybe more sultry.

But by the time he's below Mingyu's navel, ready to pull down his stupid old basketball shorts, he dips his tongue onto Mingyu's hot skin and yes, it happens, Mingyu lets out a bark of laughter. Wildly inappropriate, and not in the way Wonwoo likes.

"Really?" Wonwoo can't help but marvel, setting his chin onto Mingyu's stomach. That only tempts another peal of laughter.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says between chuckles, amused by the situation. He looks good, hair messy and eyes glossy, lips a darker pink than they'd been before. "You know how ticklish I am."

"I do," Wonwoo agrees, chagrined, and considers his next words carefully. "Wanna ride me?"

Mingyu considers, too. His head tilts and he seems to think about it, thighs flexing briefly around Wonwoo. He hums. "Sure. Just finish up what you were doing."

"Giving you head?"

"My favorite."

 

 

❣ ❣ ❣

_** WHO IS THE LITTLE SPOON? ** _

 

 

Winter break is a blessing.

Mingyu, back against Wonwoo's chest, hand holding his, might be even more of a blessing, but it's often thwarted by overheating and accidentally choking on hair if he gets too cuddly.

For now it's fine. It's perfect, even, in the little ways that matter the most. Mingyu's chest rises and falls beneath his hand and he can feel the thumps of his heart, softer and slower than his own. The room is chilled and the pillow is cool against Wonwoo's cheek. And Mingyu is perfect. Kind of. Kind of really. Kind of, in that way of his, the curved jaw and messy hair that pulled Wonwoo in in the first place.

In his arms, Mingyu snores, and startles awake.

He lets out a chuckle, pulling his arms tighter around Mingyu.

With a yawn, the chest under his palm expands. "What time is it?" Mingyu asks, voice muddled.

Wonwoo doesn't have the strength to crane his neck. The clock was behind him, but Mingyu was in front of him, and that's about where his motivation cut off. He glances around the room -- at the weak lights chancing across the far wall from cracks in the curtains, the reds and blue and deep oranges -- and takes a guess.

"Eight."

"Oh. That's late. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."

Wonwoo can _feel_ the pout. He squeezes Mingyu, and suggests that they watch Star Wars, _or something_.

"Sounds nice," Mingyu replies, and turns his head so Wonwoo can see his profile, all long eyelashes and pretty lips. The city lights do wonders for his skin. "Or we can just... cuddle. It's been a long time since we could just relax." An embarrassed smile makes its way onto his face, and he turns back before Wonwoo can properly see it. Almost in a whisper, he adds, "I kind of wish we could stay like this forever."

A laugh follows the confession.

Mingyu probably expects him to snort, and part of Wonwoo does, too. But there's sincerity in those words and over two years of dating should lessen the blow of admitting _forever_ because this is the longest relationship Wonwoo has ever been in, and it's not the first time Mingyu has expressed something like that, either.

"You know what?" Wonwoo says to the room once Mingyu has fallen back asleep. "Me, too."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> unrevised self indulgent trash fic: complete
> 
> drop some love... or not because i totally robbed u of a sex scene dont fight me i'm like a baby  
> also only haters think wonwoo is the small spoon ITS NOT ABOUT SIZE ITS ABOUT MINGYU BEING A HUGE BABY


End file.
